First Date
by The Lionhearted Phoenix
Summary: In which Harry nearly goes deaf, Ginny is exasperated, and pies are offered all around.


Harry yanked at the knot of his tie uncomfortably, fidgeting in his too-big shoes. Standing under the streetlamp was causing him to sweat profusely, and the fact that his suit was too tight didn't help. He had rented it, since the only formal wear he owned was his one set of now-too-small dress robes. He supposed he ought to have thought this out a little more – it was, after all their first date. And he didn't think she would be very pleased to find him in a suit that smelled like mothballs and with pit stains the size of the Great Lake at Hogwarts.

Although, really, who was he kidding? He wasn't sweating because of the lamp – he was sweating because of _her_. They'd never formally been out before – the closest thing to a date they'd ever had was walking around the lake and talking about the Giant Squid. In fact, now that he thought of it, he doubted even the Giant Squid would want to go out with him at this point.

"Harry?"

He turned, and there she was. She looked radiant in a green dress that set off the colour of her hair nicely – he wasn't even aware she owned any Muggle formal wear. She was wearing heels, too, which put her closer to his height than he was used to. He said a silent thank you that he was still taller than her – that would only be one more thing to add to his list of insecurities.

"Ginny," he said in relief, moving out of the lamplight and into the welcome coolness of the shaded street. "Wow. You look...wow."

"Are you always this articulate?" said Ginny, smiling slightly.

"Only around you," he replied, taking her hand.

"Why, Mr Potter," said Ginny, feigning admonishment, "are you turning on the charm so early in the night?"

"If I wanted to do that, I'd Confund you," he told her under his breath, and she laughed. "At least you wouldn't think I smell."

"You do smell," Ginny agreed, and Harry felt himself go red, self-consciously tugging at his jacket with his free hand. She took his hand in hers and brought it to his side. "But only a little," she said, smiling. "And I don't mind."

They were both suddenly aware of how close to each other they were standing. Ginny's hands seemed to tighten in his, and he was suddenly aware of how clammy his own hands were. He longed to wipe them on his trousers, but he didn't want to let go of her hands.

"Shall we go in, then?" said Harry, slightly breathlessly.

"If you want," Ginny said, equally breathlessly, but neither of them seemed to want to move. They were content standing there, in each other's company, with their hands entwined between them, staring into each other's eyes. Harry leaned in, and she tilted her head up, and their lips connected for the first time in months. It was everything Harry had hoped for and more – it was as if they had never broken up, and nothing had changed, and they were still two teenagers on the shore of the lake at Hogwarts. They would have stood there the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other, if a loud shout hadn't interrupted them.

" _POTTER_!"

They both jumped and sprang apart, smoothing their clothes and hair down. "Y-yes?" said Harry nervously.

A waiter was standing in the doorway of the restaurant, irate. "We've been calling your name for ten minutes! You're the Potter with the reservation for six o'clock, aren't you?"

"Yes – well, I – sorry," said Harry meekly. Ginny stifled a laugh.

"Well, get in then!" shouted the waiter angrily.

"Don't yell at him!" Ginny retorted, and Harry, with a jolt of panic, saw her hand go to her purse.

" _Ginny_ ," he hissed warningly.

" _What_?" she snapped, looking at him, and he looked meaningfully at her purse. She glanced down, said, "Oh," and her hand loosened on the handle of her wand. "Sorry," she said, though she still looked rather irritable. "I forgot. Muggles," she added under her breath, huffing angrily.

"Let's just go in, shall we?" he said, taking her hand again.

They entered the Muggle restaurant, and Harry felt Ginny's hand tighten on his again. "This place looks expensive," she whispered, and her hand went once again to her purse.

"Don't worry," said Harry, guiding her hand away from her moneybag. "I'm paying."

"But –"

"Look, that's how it's done," said Harry matter-of-factly. "The man always pays on the first date."

"I don't suppose that's an old Muggle tradition based on the idea that women can't do anything for themselves?" said Ginny shrewdly.

"Let's just call it chivalry and leave it at that," said Harry hastily, sensing the impending rise of trademark Weasley temper.

The restaurant was incredibly crowded and noisy, and Harry had to shout for several minutes at the front desk before they were finally able to hear them. A waiter showed them to their table and handed them their menus, and they sat down with identical sighs of exhaustion.

"I may go deaf," said Ginny, wincing as a child nearby let out an earsplitting wail.

"Who's Jeff?" Harry shouted back.

"What? No, I said –"

"Hello, my name is Allan, may I start you off with an appetizer tonight?" said the waiter that had just appeared at their side.

Harry frowned at him. "What did you say?" he shouted.

The waiter took a deep breath. "MY – NAME – IS – ALLAN!" he bellowed, and Harry and Ginny both jumped. "WOULD – YOU – LIKE – AN – APPETIZER?"

"Well, you didn't have to shout," muttered Harry, massaging his ears.

"Out?" said the waiter. "Certainly, there are tables outside! Follow me!"

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. The waiter seemed like he was waiting for something.

"What?" shouted Harry.

"Outside?" the waiter repeated, gesturing wildly.

"Pie?" Harry shouted back. "Shouldn't we have dinner first?"

"Your inner curse?" the waiter yelled. "I'm sorry to hear that!"

"Beer, flat?" shouted Harry, confused. "No, wine is fine!"

"Dine inside? I thought you wanted to go to the patio!"

"Mayo? No, what would we put it on? Unless you think we should get fries?"

"You'd like an apple pie? I'd advise getting dinner first, but –"

"Oh, will you both please SHUT UP?" Ginny shouted, and they both glanced at her. She stood up, swinging her purse onto her shoulder, and grabbed Harry's hand. "Come on, we're leaving," she told him.

"Believe it? Believe what?"

Sighing exasperatedly, she pulled Harry out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk outside. She moaned in relief as the noise of the restaurant was shut out behind them. "That's better," she said tiredly.

"Is everything okay?" Harry shouted, and Ginny cringed.

"You're yelling, dear," she told him loudly, and he smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said at a much more acceptable volume. "I think that place permanently blew my eardrums out."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you thought that was a good idea. It's like a Gryffindor Quidditch-victory party in there!"

He smiled tiredly. "Dinner at your parents?" he said, yanking his tie off.

She kicked off her heels and scooped them up in one hand. "Definitely."

And they walked off together, the man in the suit with his tie hanging loosely around his neck and the barefoot woman in the beautiful dress. And although the nearby Muggles stared, they didn't care at all – they only had eyes for each other, and that was the way it had always been.


End file.
